


Little And Broken (But Still Good)

by batsy_rocks



Series: daddy!bats is love [7]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: 5+1 Things, Bat Family, Because Batfamily, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Canon What Canon, DaddyBats, Families of Choice, Family Fluff, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Goddamnit DC!, I Don't Give a Damn What DC Says, Let Bruce Wayne Be A Good Dad 2kForever, Light Angst, Light-Hearted, Timeline What Timeline, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, he's trying okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 00:30:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19284397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/batsy_rocks/pseuds/batsy_rocks
Summary: Five times Bruce Wayne was a good father and one time he wasn't. (Except not really because I love Daddy!Bats)





	Little And Broken (But Still Good)

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Lilo & Stitch.

Bruce isn't sure what woke him up at first.

He stays still, keeping his eyes closed and breath even. It takes him less than five seconds to identify the cause. It isn't hard at all with the fast and loud breathing filling the previously silent room.

Bruce props himself up on his elbows, squinting his eyes at the tiny dark shadow standing in his doorway. He reaches blindly for the bedside lamp and then squeezes his eyes shut at the sudden brightness. A muffled sniff makes him open them again.

"Dick? Are you alright?"

The boy remains silent and still, looking even smaller with his puffy eyes and red nose, the tear-tracks still fresh as he hugs his stuffed elephant to his chest.

"Did you have a nightmare?" He asks gently.

The nod he gets in reply is barely perceptible and Bruce feels a pang in his heart.

He tries to remember if there was something that made him feel better after nightmares when he was a boy. There must have been, of course, but he can't think of anything at the moment. Maybe he should just wake Alfred and have him deal with Dick. The last thing he wants is to make this worst for him.

"Can I sleep here?"

"What?"

"I..." Dick blinks rapidly. "I don't wanna be alone."

"I- Of course."

Before Bruce can say anything else Dick crosses the distance to the bed and crawls to his side. He helps the boy under the covers, freezing when he feels him cling to him, one of his short, wiry arms wrapping around him while the other holds his elephant close.

"'night."

"Good night, Dick."

Bruce forces himself to relax, blinking up at the ceiling.

He should probably stay awake tonight. Bruce knows he doesn’t react well to unexpected touches and Dick doesn’t deserve to experience that firsthand.

* * *

Bruce watches Jason on the passager seat out of the corner of his eye as the boy continues watching out the window with rapt attention. Jason loves cars and traveling in them, as he found rather quickly. The fact Bruce enjoys driving as well is irrelevant.

The suggestion to go for a drive, made in the middle of an argument surprised both of them, but Jason didn’t say no and here they are.

It’s not going to fix anything, of course, but it’s something.

Thirty minutes filled with silence later, Bruce still doesn't know where they're going, but the tense air between them is gone and that's good enough for now.

It shouldn’t have been an argument to being with, but Bruce’s inability to express himself clearly and Jason’s defensiveness escalated thing quickly.

Bruce can't say he didn't expect certain issues to arise with Jason entering Gotham Academy, and he certainly can't fault the boy for reacting to the insults and hurtful words the other boys threw at him.

He only wishes it didn’t have to end with black eyes and bloody noses.

"You finally gonna kick me out, huh?"

"What?"

Jason says nothing, simply looks at the shabby and dirty street they’re driving by.

They’re in the Narrows now, fairly close to Crime Alley. Bruce can’t say he was planning to come here, but it may not be a bad idea.

"There’s nothing you can do that will make me kick you out, Jay. The Manor is and will always be your home.”

The boy looks away, brow furrowed.

"You mentioned the other day you missed chili dogs. I think eating some now will help to make your day a little better."

Jason’s head snaps upward. “We’re getting chili dogs?”

A smile tugs at the corner of Bruce’s lips when he sees the gleam in Jason’s eyes. “We are.”

* * *

When Bruce finally looks away from the report he had been reading he's surprised to find Tim sitting to his right, attention fixed on one of the monitors. His head is resting on his fist, eyes half-lidded and coffee cup clutched in his other hand.

He looks ready to fall asleep at any second but Bruce knows better. Tim wouldn't let himself sleep until he finishes.

Bruce frowns. "Tim."

"Hmm?"

"It's late. You should go to bed."

"Sure. I'll go when you do."

He opens his mouth to remind Tim he is the _adult_ here but closes it without a word. Bruce is self-aware enough to recognize how hypocritical it is to call Tim out for working late when he's doing the same thing, but he is the boy's father. It's his job to worry and care for him, even if he doesn't always do it well.

He gets to his feet after a few keystrokes, bones popping and muscles creaking as he does. Tim is still immersed in his work and doesn't even react when he puts a hand on his shoulder.

"Let's go."

"Huh?" Tim blinks sleepily at him.

"You said you would go to bed when I did, so save whatever you're working on because we're going upstairs now."

"But I'm working."

"You were working. Now you're going to bed."

"But it's important."

"So is sleep."

Tim blinks slowly. “Who are you?”

“I will carry you if I have to.”

Tim watches him for a moment, probably trying to gauge if he’s bluffing. The boy sighs a moment later, taking care of his work before turning to him with tired eyes.

"Come on,” Bruce beckons, watching Tim as he sluggishly gets to his feet.

He keeps a hand resting on Tim's shoulder, feeling the boy leaning into the touch as he steers him out of the cave.

* * *

The sound of soft music makes Bruce pause at the bottom of the stairs.

He follows the notes of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake to one of the Manor’s ballrooms where he finds Cassandra practicing her ballet in her pink leotard.

She gives no indication of having noticed his presence, but he has no doubt Cass knows he’s here.

Bruce soon finds himself enthralled by his daughter’s grace, agility, and strength. It's like watching her fight and train as Black Bat, and completely different at the same time.

Cass finishes with a perfect pirouette and Bruce immediately claps, the smile tugging at his lips winning when he sees her turn in his direction and bow.

The song starts again, but rather than go back to practicing she reaches for her water bottle, prompting Bruce to walk further into the room.

"That was beautiful."

"Thank you," She replies, pushing a stray hair away from her face with a huff.

“May I?”

Cass doesn’t answer, turning her back to him to let him reach for her unruly hair. He runs his fingers through the short locks before tying it up in a lopsided but less messy ponytail.

She gives him a warm smile before walking to where she left her iPod on the floor. A second later the music changes to a more upbeat, pop-ish song.

“Dance?”

“I don’t know how." And it's the truth. He can dance waltzes, of course, but only after years of lessons at Alfred's insistence.

“Dance.” It’s no longer a question this time.

Bruce watches her with narrowed eyes. He can't say no to her and they both know it, but he still likes to pretend he has a choice anyway.

“You wouldn’t tell your brothers. Or anyone else.”

Cass’ only response is a bright smile and gleaming eyes, so Bruce resigns to his fate and takes her hand.

* * *

“Damian. May I come in?” Bruce asks as he knocks on the bedroom’s door.

He doesn’t get a response, but he can hear movement on the other side even through the thick wooden door. Damian appears less than a minute later, his hair mussed and cheeks lightly flushed. The door is open only wide enough to let the boy stand there.

“Do you need something, Father?”

“I would like to speak with you.” Bruce gives him an expectant look.

Damian hesitates, but a moment later the door is open to let him through, and he takes a discrete look around as he walks inside.

“How was school?”

There’s a flicker of surprise in Damian’s face, which is quickly covered with his usual scowl. It’s an understandable reaction. Bruce never comes to his son’s bedroom to ask about school. He does that during dinner.

“It was as pointless and inadequate as always, Father.”

“I see.”

A muted, soft noise is heard in the silent room, but before he can identify it a sudden cough from Damian covers it, dragging Bruce attention back to the boy.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Father. Do you require something else? I believe I should start working on my homework.”

Bruce opens his mouth to speak, but is cut off by the same sound again, quickly followed by the muted sound of scratching.

He looks at his son before walking toward the closet and pulling the door open.

A pair of puppies stumble out, little tails wagging and pink tongues sticking out. Bruce looks down at the puppy that stops by his feet, looking up at him with big brown eyes.

“I can explain.”

“I’m sure you can.” Bruce picks the puppy, the corner of his lips curling upward when it licks his face.

“You’re no angry.”

He gives Damian a look. “They are not staying.”

* * *

Bruce is out of his bedroom as soon as he can force his feet to hold him. He feels lightheaded and his body aches from the roots of his hair down to the tips of his toes in a way it hasn't for some time now. His mind is clear, though, and the memories of what he did replay again and again in sharp detail.

He needs to see them. Even if they never forgive him he needs to see them. Needs to make sure they're alright.

Bruce is taking a moment to rest at the bottom of the stairs when Alfred finds him.

"Master Bruce. You should still be in bed, sir."

He ignores the scolding, focusing instead on getting information. "Where are they? Are they okay?"

The butler puts a hand on Bruce's shoulder. "The young Masters and Miss Cassandra are fine, sir. They did not sustain any serious injuries."

He closes his eyes, allowing himself to take comfort in Alfred's touch even when he knows he doesn't deserve it.

"I have attended to them, and they are now resting." Bruce blinks his eyes open and sees Alfred's minute smile. "I'm afraid they refused to retire to their respective bedrooms and have instead chosen to settle in the den."

His children are together. That's good.

"Since you're already out of bed, perhaps you ought to go with them."

Bruce shakes his head. "That's not a good idea."

"Isn't it? Because I have no doubt seeing their father will be good for them after what happened."

Bruce doesn't know if it will be good for them or not, but he needs more than Alfred's reassurances. He needs proof his children are fine. As fine as they can be.

Alfred must know what he’s thinking because he doesn’t say anything. He gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze before walking away.

He finds his sons and daughter in the den, just like Alfred told him. The coffee table has been pushed aside to let the boys lie together on the thick rug on the floor while Cassandra occupies the sofa.

"Hi."

He blinks to where Cass is peeking over the back of the sofa. A second later everyone's attention is on him as well.

"You're awake."

"Father."

"You don't look so hot right now, B."

He feels physically ill when he sees the injuries he caused. Dick's black eye and split lip. The large contusion on Cassandra's cheek. The fresh stitches on Damian's forehead and the bandaid on his nose. Jason's right arm in a sling. Tim's heavily bruised jaw and the splint on his left hand.

And that's only what he can see. How many other injuries hide under their clothes. And it's all his fault.

He did this.

"I'm sorry," Bruce whispers thickly, blinking back tears. "I'm so sorry."

"Not your fault," Cass declares, quickly followed by responses from her brothers.

"Of course it's not."

"Aww, B."

"She's right."

"Duh."

Bruce is shaking his head even before they finish speaking. "I attacked you-"

"You were drugged!" Dick counteracts.

"Hey! You can't go to sleep yet, Replacement."

Bruce turns his attention away from Dick, watching Jason shake Tim awake. He adds a contusion to his mental list of injuries as well as bruised ribs when he notices the wince that crosses Jason’s face as he shifts his position.

He’s ready to escape, unable to keep witnessing the pain he inflicted on his sons and daughter when Cass takes his hand. He blinks down at her in surprise.

Bruce remains rooted to the spot even as Cass tugs at his hand.

"Just get your ass here already, old man."

Bruce looks at each of his children before taking the first step.

**Author's Note:**

> Always is a good time for some good old daddy!Bats, but we kinda need it even more right now with the mess canon is doing. A Batman who punches and beats his kids half to death is not my Batman, and let's not talk about the disgusting way they're normalizing that violence and making it okay. *deep breath* So, I hope you enjoyed this and do let me know what you think!
> 
> Happy belated Father's day to our favorite Dad! So, each segment has exactly 310 words (the last part has 310 with Alfred and 310 with the kids) which was _no easy_ to do. The main reason I decided to do that was because I knew I would end up writing longer bits with with the character I feel more comfortable writing and I didn't want that. Sorry if any of them are OOC. I tried. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> English is not my native language, so any tips or corrections are welcome.


End file.
